by Riley Archer
Other than obsessing over it, I had no idea what to do with the devil’s cardstock. I supposed it was time to confer with my minions. Damian was elbows deep into a conversation with his new furry friend. I rolled my eyes and left him to it. The vampire last night, the kitten tonight. I couldn’t quite peg his type, but I had a feeling it involved some deep-seated kinks.
As I searched for Ash and Jose, the temperature of the business card warmed and cooled. I stopped and stared at it, and various hyperalert patrons stared at me. I tried to play it off by fanning myself with the card, which might have looked less ridiculous if I were the size of a doll.
Keeping better composure this time, I moved around to test out the warming sensation. Lukewarm, hotter, cold. Hot, lukewarm, chilly. Searing, frigid, tepid. Hot! Then nothing.
I was playing an elementary game to find an ancient spellbook, but it seemed my prize was a slippery minx.
I was wearing stilettos, and Ash had painted my toenails a glossy purple. My feet looked fabulous, but after all this walking, my killer heels were quite close to killing me. Beautifully rigid, homicidal instincts. It dawned on me that these strappy things had a lot in common with Tanaka.
Maybe I’d mail them to him. Better yet, next time I saw him, I’d chuck ’em at his head. The thought cheered me up enough to keep abusing my blistering toes.
I turned a corner and spotted Jose’s golden vest and Ash’s crimped bob. They walked into a restroom or a coat closet or something. They might’ve had an idea what this weird temperature magic was. I approached the open doorway and froze.
I only picked up the tail end of a sentence, but I’d know that annoyingly calm voice anywhere.
“ … her here?”
Ash huffed. “Do you know her at all? Nothing would stop her from coming. You could try a thank you. We made it to where she got in without being alone or causing a scene.”
“You’re with me, which means she’s alone right now.”
“No,” Jose spoke up. “She made friends with a super-sexy rogue, who’s keeping an eye on her now. A keen, sexy eye.”
Otto didn’t respond, but I could practically feel his disapproving scowl through the wall. It’d been aimed at me so many times that I could sense the shift in air when it was unveiled. Naturally, one of his thinking sighs followed.
“We need to get her out.”
That was my cue. I’d already taken off my heels and had them at the ready. I tiptoed away as fast as I could, clutching the card with one hand and the shoes with the other. They were pointy enough to be handy weapons, should I need them.
I needed them immediately.
“Ellis?”
I couldn’t help but turn. He’d grown his wavy hair out just a bit, and I couldn’t stop myself from wondering who had ever run their blessed hands through it. My chest deflated. He was beautiful and statuesque enough for a museum. And if I didn’t know better, I’d think Otto Tanaka was surprised but elated to see me. I’d think I saw sad compassion swirl behind his dark brown eyes. I would think there was an intangible string between us that drew me to him.
But I knew better.
Jose bit his knuckles in an oh shit moment, and Ash sucked in a breath.
“Ell—” She reached out.
My pointy, strappy weapons went flying. Otto dodged one with ease, and the other struck Jose’s nose. I didn’t stick around to listen to any more of their bullshit. I’d been fed enough of it for a lifetime. Lucky me, I’d gotten extra steamy servings in my dysfunctional afterlife.
They wanted me out of here, which meant there was something to find. I was going to find it.
I wove through the establishment barefoot. Judgmental gawks ran the length of my body as I passed, and a slinky pursuit itched at my back. I moved faster.
My stunted emotional intelligence chewed over what was happening, and it went down like nails. Tanaka had probably killed me just so he could recruit me and earn my trust. He probably took forever to arrive after the birth of Hailey Glitch because he was waiting to see if I could control her. And … Ash and Jose had been his spies from the start. I was an idiot who thought coincidences actually happened.
Otto must’ve figured out my temporary real-world address and sent his sneaky little minions my way. He had probably been there in the black market that day, too, making sure his spies were wiggling their way into my new life.
My chest shuddered from anger and something else. Something with sharp edges. Just today, I’d thought of them as friends. I thought I had fun clothes shopping for the first time ever, but it was just another game. Another scheme. I’d wandered right into the role of a fool.
I should have thrown those heels harder.
I slipped into a narrow corridor. The card flashed with heat, which startled me enough to make me trip over my own foot. I went to catch myself on the wall, but instead, I fell right through it.
I smacked against cold stone and scrutinized every direction. The dome of a room was shadowed and almost empty, but a tall oak podium stood before me.
A giant, textured leather book adorned with a pop-out skull symbol rested on it.
The Ars Magia Veterum.
19
The Kidnapping, Take Two
Sure, I had established that coincidences weren’t real. At least not when it pertained to my existence. Even so, I saw that monster of a textbook and lunged.
I froze right before my fingers brushed the oddly fuzzy texture. The Ars Magia Veterum was an ugly beast. I wouldn’t be surprised if it mauled me and gobbled up a chunk of my hand. I wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.
I was stuck in a running position. Only my eyes had the ability to move around, but whoever had used their paralyzing magic on me was too chicken to enter my peripherals.
“Good job, Ezekiel,” a familiar yet horrid crackling voice said from behind me. “I told our High Priest you were worth every penny. Sarah, Jake, administer the dosage.”
A death smell burned into my senses and curdled my stomach juices. Cold, rubbery fingers dug into my arms, and needles followed.
“Thanks for looking out,” I said as my faculties returned to me, though they were woozy. “But I don’t think reapers need vaccines.”
My knees buckled. Two pastel-skinned redheads caught me. Before I tuckered out, I saw the incubus from earlier standing beside who I believed to be the rotten goat-head lady who was supposed to be dead but without her bony headdress. Leaking pustules dotted her grayish forehead and neck. The incubus radiated godlike prowess at her side, and it was official. I would never trust a beautiful man again.
My head rocked back like a newborn’s. Sarah’s and Jake’s faces hovered over mine.
Those heedless dummies, I thought before I realized they were dead.
I was facedown on a cot. Everything smelled of moldy dirt and bile. I peeked between my barely parted lashes; I was in some kind of stony shelter that had been broken by time and nature.
It took a surge of will, but I shot to my feet. Pus Lady barely got a glance in before the ginger twins swooped in to restrain me.
“Let go!” I squirmed.
Their grips were lifeless and rigid, just like their expressions.
I sighed. “Why didn’t you listen?”
“Yes, they should have listened,” Pus Lady said while she carved symbols into a restrained guy’s arm. The same symbols that had been cut into me. “They knew the consequences of abandoning their apprenticeship. I have to say, they’re more useful without all the yapping.”
“You’re supposed to be dead,” I grunted.
She just turned and smiled, like I’d told her she was the fairest maiden in all the land.
This sick wench was evil. I yanked out of Sarah’s grasp, but she caught me again. When I launched another violent escape attempt, Sarah’s head tilted back.
A tear streamed down her cheek as she wailed, “Please! Please don’t kill us! They made us run. We only wanted to get help. No … please …” A cry that riva
led the Glitch call broke from her throat.
I spat at the decomposing witch, “I hope you choke on an abscess and fall into a dump.”
“Be good.” The old lady had a toothless grin. It was more menacing than all the fangs in the world. “That uptight Adelia did me a favor, binding you. You won’t escape from here, but if you sit quietly while we prepare your trials, you won’t have to listen to the rest of Sarah’s death or her brother’s. Oh, Jake. His cries were so pretty.”
The zombie siblings cuffed me and shoved me back onto the cot. While I inwardly questioned what she meant by trials, the corpse of a witch finished carving bloody symbols into the unconscious man. Then she walked out of what used to be a doorway, leaving me alone with her teenage slaves and torture victim.
Ten minutes passed, and she hadn’t returned. I tried talking to Sarah and Jake. They didn’t so much as blink. I tried to get up, and they pushed me back down. They were unnaturally strong, and I wondered if it was a rigor-mortis-in-motion-effect. Unless I moved, they stood still as statues.
“Hey! Wake up!” I shouted at the strapped dude without much hope.
At least he was out cold; that meant he didn’t have to look or sniff at the witch while she mutilated him. That would’ve been one cruel and unusual punishment on top of another. The way he was slumped over suggested more than a booze-fueled nap.
A dark, painful kind of prison, Madam Okiro had said of those symbols.
I didn’t know if he was trapped behind his rib cage or if he was in another place altogether. If he was lucky, it was the latter.
But I had nothing better to do, so I took this time to vent. If he could hear me, I was sure he agreed that, once my dark powers returned, I should sic a bunch of zombies on the zombie-maker who’d wronged us. Then I talked about all the other people I’d like to sic zombies on, including my fake friends and my hideously gorgeous ex-Grim. And that damn incubus who had given me the card of doom like it was a golden ticket. That guy belonged in Willy Wonka hell.
When my vocal cords strained, I finally shut up. I was forced to listen to the nagging voice inside my head. It was saying all kinds of uncomfortable things. Like, if Otto was the Grim in cahoots with this coven, why had he wanted me out of the gentlemen’s club? Unless he had known I was eavesdropping and that the conversation would send me running into a trap. But there were too many variables in that scenario despite how acquainted he was with my stubbornness. If it wasn’t Otto, then why did everything point to him?
I thought about the weasels—I mean, Ash and Jose. If I was being honest with myself, they hadn’t actually pushed me to go anywhere or do anything other than spend obscene amounts of money on frivolous things. They’d mostly just mooched and followed me around.
Once again, Otto became the kind of mystery that looked nice on a pedestal, even if he belonged on the gritty ground with me. There was no doubt he had been keeping tabs on me. I just didn’t know why he would spy on me. For self-argument’s sake, who else could be playing puppet master?
My mind became a murder board until an answer in red letters pounded inside my skull—anyone. Anyone could be the master; anyone could be the pawn. Maybe I needed to stop focusing on their roles and focus on my own. If I were forced to play gory chess, I’d be playing the queen.
20
The Devil’s Instrument
Being drugged and kidnapped took its toll on a person. Even the forbidden spawn of two paranormal beings. It kicked my ass.
Once a detached resolution settled into my bones, I let myself drift off. Better to be rested when my captors came for me. My replaying death dream slithered into focus.
Door. Keys. Hand. Panic. Glass bowl reflection. Blur.
This time, the blur cleared. My killer wore a ski mask, no different from any run-of-the-mill bank robber. It didn’t matter. I was done with this imagery, done spinning in circles, trying to figure out what had happened. The more I chased, the further the answers dug in. It was time to let them come to me.
When dream Ellis closed her eyes, subconscious Ellis closed her eyes too. When that happened, all of dream Ellis’s other senses sharpened. One in particular. Scent.
A carefully crafted scent that was subtle but clean filled my mind space. A scent that had set me off in all the wrong ways. Was it in my dream, or was it here, leaking into my consciousness?
Either way, nap time was over.
My probable killer strode in and stared at me, rubbing his golden stubble with an open palm. I pushed myself up and blinked the sleep from my eyes. My rule of not trusting beautiful men had come a tad late. My dumb hormones had gotten in the way.
“Cameron Atlas,” I greeted. “Sorry, haven’t had a chance to clean up. You don’t mind, do you?”
The silly hues mixed in with his rigidity were gone. He glanced at me without a flicker of humanity; he was a frosted island none could approach. This was not a guy who made macaroni and cheese and had soapy water fights in the kitchen. This was a killer. A ruthless puppeteer. He knelt before me and tucked loose strands of hair behind my ear.
“Don’t touch me.” I flinched from anger, not fear.
“Uncuff her,” he barked, and the ginger twins complied.
As soon as my hands were free, I launched my fist. My knuckles cracked against his cheek, and his head whipped to the side. Blood filled the crevice between his lips. He licked it and smiled.
“Glad we got that out of your system.” He grabbed my cursed hand and inspected my skin.
“Not even close to out of my system.”
“You promise?” He winked and turned to the rotting necromancer, a dark twinkle in the corners of his eyes.
He was as sick as she was. I remembered that his mouth and hands had been all over me, and I was close to being sick too.
“Glinda, please unbind the Daughter’s powers. We have little time to get her prepared. The trials start now.”
Glinda, in all her evil grossness, loomed over me and delicately handled the Ars Magia Veterum. Her hand came at me but paused right before my forehead.
I let a strangled breath loose. Thank all that is holy. My stomach was already sloshing. If she touched me, I’d barf.
“No funny business. You are in my territory now,” Glinda said before harsh foreign words danced over her tongue.
My hand burned and ached. It felt like a mechanical spider was inside it, stretching obscenely long metal legs.
I gritted my teeth until it was over. I couldn’t stop my fingers from shaking. Between heavy breaths, I said, “Madam Okiro had a much more delicate touch. Have you considered apprenticing under her?”
Glinda squinted like I’d struck a nerve but didn’t respond. She flipped pages in the Ars Magia Veterum and moved to the imprisoned man. “Ready when you are, High Priest.”
I was ready too. Frosty power surged through me and flowed toward Sarah and Jake. As soon as the spectral red ribbons touched them, they dropped to their knees. They released bloodcurdling screams.
“Stop! Please. No, no, no, no. No!” Snotty sobs choked Jake.
They had suffered so much. Tears filled my eyes, and my power went limp.
Glinda laughed, but Atlas shushed her. He now stood in the doorway with an elderly man. Once silence took over the room again, Atlas nodded at his guest.
The elderly man unwrapped something in his hand, which I guessed to be bad sashimi, and ate it. Then he sat down and folded his legs. This seemed like a weird place to snack and hang out, but to each their own, I supposed. At the same time, Atlas pulled a weird necklace from his pocket. It had a pretty hefty chain that held something that looked like a carved, hand-painted cylinder.
“Now that you’ve seen me, it’s my turn to play, I think.” He put it to his lips.
Ah, it was a whistle. Why the hell did he have a whistle?
His cheeks were puffed, so it was clear he was doing something to it, but it didn’t make any noise.
“I appreciate the musical effort, but I’d really pref
er—”
The strapped torture victim convulsed so violently that I thought he might break the gurney. The symbols in his arm glowed. Once the spasm stopped, he went totally pale.
“What the …”
As if convulsions were contagious, the snacking old man dropped into his own seizure. His throat made strangled sounds like he couldn’t breathe.
I jostled toward him, but Sarah’s and Jake’s iron grips held me down. “Help him, you fuckers!”
It was as if I hadn’t said anything. As if nothing was happening at all. Glinda and Atlas stood by while the man suffocated to death, foam bubbling from his mouth and spilling down his cheek. When the fit finally stopped, the old man’s foggy spirit lifted from his lifeless body.
The urge to guide him tickled my senses. The Abyss wanted him. And apparently, that had something to do with whatever the trials were because Sarah and Jake backed away. Far enough away for me to get past them if I really tried. Atlas lifted the archaic whistle to his lips again.
I was sorry for the old man who’d eaten some really bad fish, but I had my priorities. I hopped right over him as I bolted for the door.
Atlas looped a finger through my strappy dress like it would slow me down. The beautiful fabric ripped as I darted onto a courtyard. A giant manor, in much better condition than the broken greenhouse I’d been trapped in, stood tall to the right.
I scanned every direction, and the old man’s spirit followed me out. Atlas stood in the doorway with the instrument dangling from his wicked mouth. Then, he blew.
This time, the instrument made a sound that shattered my eardrums. The Glitch call!
Atlas had hired me to find … him. He’d set me up every single time. I was a rat in a maze, and he’d been tinkering with the walls and moving the cheese at whim. Motherfucker.
As expected, the spirit burst into globular matter. I ran through the lush grass and hoped the newborn Glitch would aim for the monster-makers. The trimmed yard was surrounded by forest.